


Tattoo

by Cofkett



Series: How Many Ways to Say I Love You [4]
Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cofkett/pseuds/Cofkett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beckett gets another tattoo. Castle makes it his personal mission to find it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> Snaps for Alexis!
> 
> Originally posted on fanfiction.net under the same username. Written between seasons four and five. I've done some editing so it's a little different from the original.

#4

"You have a tattoo, right, Kate?" Alexis asked.

Castle's fork paused in mid-air between his plate and his mouth.

"Yes," said Beckett.

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, yeah, it burned and stung a little."

"Like, on a scale of one to ten?"

"Probably... about a one - although, you've gotta remember that ten for me is being shot in the chest, so, my threshold for pain's a little higher than most. If you'd asked me at the the time, I might have said three. Are you thinking about getting one?"

Castle leaned forward.

"Considering it."

Beckett, who seemed to be the only one who noticed how uncomfortable Castle looked, squeezed his hand.

"Relax, Castle, it's a tattoo, not a Nipple Ring.'

Alexis turned to see her father's expression and held back a laugh.

"Yeah, Dad, it's not like I'm sticking the Playboy Bunny symbol on my butt."

"Ok, neither of the things you two just said were in any way funny or reassuring."

"Oh, lighten up Richard," said Martha. "The girl's - the woman rather, is - twenty-years-old, for crying out loud. This is her decision. I got a tattoo once."

Castle narrowed his eyebrows, suddenly distracted. "You never told me that."

"Well, it was so long ago."

"Wow, Grams. Uh... is it any place you can show us?"

"Oh, don't be vulgar, Alexis. Of course," she said, holding up her left arm. "Right there, above my elbow."

Alexis squinted. "I don't see anything."

"It's right there," she said, pointing. "See that little dot?

"Isn't that a freckle?" ask Castle.

"How many blue freckles have you seen?"

"What's it supposed to be?" asked Beckett. "A tiny Planet Earth?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I was at this party. I may have had a little too much to drink -"

"Ever notice how many of your stories start the same way?" said Castle.

She ignored him. "Andrea Ross dared me and - well, I might have backed out at the last moment. Except that I was one moment too late."

"Martha Rodgers backing out of a dare? Just how drunk were you?"

"I know it sounds out of character but actually it's quite the opposite. Back then, I had a crippling fear of commitment - "

"Back then?"

"The idea of being locked into anything for the rest of my life terrified me!"

"Good thing you never had any children," Castle said dryly.

She glared at him in mock-annoyance.

"Your Grandmother's right," said Beckett. "It's a big decision. Tattoos are a lot more painful and expensive to remove than they are to acquire. You shouldn't enter into it lightly. And you'll need to do your homework to make sure you're using a reputable place."

"Where did you get yours?" Alexis queried.

"Well, it's funny you should ask, because I've been thinking about getting another one - "

He choked on his potato.

"Dad, are you ok?"

He nodded as he took a drink of water.

Beckeett rolled her eyes and continued, " - so, maybe you and I could go together."

"It'd be nice to have someone there for moral support; someone who's done it before."

Castle watched the scene unfolding, dumbstruck.

A tattoo. Well, there were worse things, he supposed – and wasn't he constantly encouraging Alexis to be more adventurous? A tattoo was far preferable to a lot of other things she could be doing. Maybe this would be her one act of rebellion – except not really rebellion because he was totally cool about it. Because he was a cool Dad.

 

* * *

 

"Oh, before I forget, Castle, I've got an appointment after work, so, tonight, why don't you meet me at my apartment at, say, 7:30?"

"An appointment?" He straightened up, looking across her desk with concern. "Is everything ok?"

"Oh, no. I mean, yeah, every thing's fine. It's at the tattoo parlour."

Right. The tattoos. How could he forget?

"You're going with Alexis?"

"No – Didn't she tell you? She changed her mind."

In spite of himself, he was a little relieved. "Huh. Y'know, the whole tattoo thing did seem a little out of character for her."

"Well, apparently, she was very attached to her room-mate's Gold-fish and wanted a way to memorialise him."

"Blinky died? Why didn't she tell me?"

"You'll have to ask her."

A goldfish. She had considered getting a tattoo for a dead goldfish. How adorable. How sweet. How... Alexis.

"Hey, so, do you know what you're gonna get?"

"Oh, yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while. I even know where I'm gonna have it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Now, if I told you, where would be the fun in that? I seem to recall you having a pretty good time finding the first one."

Castle almost forgot to breathe.

She smirked.

It drove him crazy the rest of the day, wondering what it could possibly be. Something meaningful? Something cute, like Hello Kitty? Or maybe something sexy. What was he thinking? She could get a tattoo of a paper-bag and it would still look sexy on her. He wondered if she would get it on her knee. She knew how crazy he was for her knees. Actually, she'd mentioned on several occasions that she found it mildly disturbing, but then again, she often said that about him in general.

That Night...

Beckett smiled at Castle as she handed him the last dish.

"What?"

"You've been so good tonight. You didn't ask me about my tattoo all evening."

And it had been really difficult. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it all day; and tonight, having her in front of him, he had just stared, his eyes searching, wondering, Is that where...? Is that..?"

"Tattoo? Oh, that's right, you got a tattoo. How did it go? Are you sore?"

"A little."

"Want me to kiss it better?" he offered as he put ther last plate away.

"You'll have to find it first," she simpered as she put her arms around his neck. "The question is, as good as you've been, have you been good enough? I mean, you did bring wine."

"It's polite. I'm a guest."

Except that he hadn't brought wine over regularly since the early days of their relationship. Now, he reserved it for special occasions – mostly to discourage Beckeett's habit of drinking 1997 Pinot Noir with pizza.

"You helped with the washing up."

"When have I not?"

"You look really hot tonight."

He stared, mouth agape. At first, he didn't have a response for that one and she smirked in satisfaction, but then the look of shock was replaced with a self-satisfied grin.

"Don't I every night?"

Truth was, he'd spent much longer than usual getting ready, agonising over what to wear. He'd never felt more like a woman in his life.

"You deserve a reward."

"Ooh, is it shiny?"

She bit her lip, unwrapped her arms and led him by the hand to her bedroom. He didn't care how many times she did it, he would never, ever get sick of the way her hand fit his, of the look in her eyes, the promise there. He would never stop feeling absolutely ecstatic and wonder-struck that Kate Beckett was leading him into her bedroom. To have sex.  
With him. Fuck yeah!

"Tell me, Mr. Castle, have you ever been strip-searched?"

"Half the times I was arrested, it wasn't necessary, as I'd already taken care of the strip part."

"Do you know how to conduct one?"

"I think you know I've never been one for procedure. I prefer to improvise. But I think you also know that I'm a fast learner. Will you teach me?"

She paused, thoughtfully. "No. Let's do things your way. You're in charge."

He looked in her eyes, saw the trust there, the certainty, and it melted his heart – as well as making him hard. He inched closer towards her, listening to her heavy breathing.

Beckett usually followed her instincts. Right now, they were telling her to grab him and kiss him, but she ignored them. This was going to be on his terms. She was handing over the reins.

He cupped her face in his hands, softly pressing his lips against hers.

Again, she fought her instincts, which were now telling her to grab his hair, to push her tongue into his mouth.

He could just ask her to show him – but that would ruin the mystery. It would be like skipping to the end. Richard Castle never skipped to the end

He led her to the bed, and she lay down flat with him kneeling beside her. He tentatively lifted her foot with one hand, and slowly slipped off her high-heeled shoe, repeating his actions with the other. He was going to be meticulous. He gently rotated each foot, checking the heels, ankles, toes, everything.

He looked up at her as a smile slowly played at his lips.

She shook her head slightly, smiling back. She knew what was coming next.

He bent over her, tucking his thumbs into her slacks and slowly pulling them down, peering into her eyes as he did so, his warm fingers trailing softly behind on her skin, stopping just before her knees. He lifted her thigh, sliding the pant leg off. His finger traced down the bottom of her leg from her thigh to her heel, grasping hold when he got there.

He gently pushed down on her thigh and up on her heel. Seeing what he wanted, she straightened her impossibly long leg and he inspected it. Thoroughly. Then he gently rested it back down and proceeded on to her other leg. He took a deep breath as he moved the fabric past her knee and couldn't hide his disappointment when he saw that it, too, was bear.

"Oh, you didn't seriously think it was on my knee, did you? God, Castle, not every part of me revolves around you."

He bent his head down softly kissed her knee anyway. He kept moving the fabric down, following the path with his lips and tongue. He switched to the inside of her leg when he travelled back up. She laughed and gave an involuntary kick when he reached the inside of her knee, which only seemed to encourage him as he kissed his way all the way up to the bottom of her panties. Beckett grabbed on to the sheets to restrain herself.

Her breath caught when he moved up and she saw he was about to do.

He could see a pool of moisture forming through the fabric of her panties and he licked his lips before he proceeded to pull them down with his teeth. She lifted herself up to assist him as he dragged the material down, all the way off her feet, throwing them aside with a flick of his head.

Castle pushed her knees up towards her chest, where she held them as he caressed her buttocks, spreading them apart, salivating at the view. Still no tatoo. He had a serious temptation to concentrate on this area for a while, but he had a mission.. He lay her legs back down and moved on to her white blouse.

He was trying to maintain a slow speed as he unbuttoned her from bottom to top but it wasn't easy. He nearly broke his resolve; but at that moment Beckett hissed in frustration.

"Tease," she muttered.

He chuckled. Ok, driving her crazy was worth waiting a little while longer. Once he removed the top button, he opened the shirt up.

He lightly traced the scar from her operation with his fingers, continuing up to her bra, resting on the much tinier scar between her breasts.

"Do you ever get sick of this?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyebrows.

"Do I ever get sick of you running your hands all over me? Well, yeah, it can get pretty tedious sometimes. I mean, jeez, Castle, ease up," she teased.

"I mean your scar. Do you get sick of me touching it?"

Her smile faded. "Never," she said solemnly, reaching up to stroke his face. "Why would you even think that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you really wanna be reminded of that when we're... y'know?"

"Screwing?'

He nearly choked in surprise.

"Or making love?" she placed her hand on top of his. "'Cause I guess it would be weird if we were just screwing, if this didn't mean anythhing. When you touch me here it reminds me of the way I felt the first time you told me you loved me. It reminds me of our first night together. It reminds me that I have someone that I trust so completely with every part of myself.  
"And I think it reminds you that I'm still here, that I came back to you."

She was right.

"It's our scar. I never have and never would let anyone else touch me here."

"Well, I should hope not. It's right between your boobs."

She smiled, rolling her eyes. "There's my guy," she said tenderly.

Her guy. He was her guy. He smiled back, pressing her lips gently to hers. Then, he lay down next to her, rolling her on her side. He ran his finger slowly up and down her back before unclasping her bra and gently slipped it down and off her arms.

She was now completely naked, he fully clothed. He moved her hair off her neck and nizzled it. She inhaled. He rolled her on to her back. She was simpering at him.

He lifted her arms studiously. Then, he stared at her in confusion.

She raised an eyebrow. He looked down.

Oh, no way.

He gently cupped her right breast, looking under. Nothin He repeated his acrtions with her left breast and his breath caught. There it was. Tiny, but large enough for him to read, just under his thumb. Three characters: a black I, a red love-heart and a black chess piece.

A very specific chess piece. As her message sunk in, his eyes widened and his heart nearly stopped. She... Well, he knew that but... she had gotten it burned into her skin. Deciding that saying all the mushy, sappy things he was thinking out loud might come across as less than manly, he feigned confusion.

"'I heart Chess?' Well, it's a fine game, I'll give you that, but I had no idea you felt so strongly about it."

"Not chess, Castle."

He pretended to think. "'I heart Rook.' Well I'm flattered. A lot of my fans find him annoying and unnecessary."

"So do I," said Beckett, playing along. "I guess he's just grown on me."

He continued to stare at her tattoo.

"So, you like it?"

"I love it," he whispered,abandoning all pretence, slowly moving his fingers along it with utter reverence. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful." He bent his head down, slowly, and kissed her declaration, her dedication, to him. He felt her heart thundering beneath his tongue. Her breath came in short, quick gasps.

He looked up at her from in between her breasts. "You branded yourself," he said in wonder.

"Well, it's hard to compete with an entire book series. Besides, I figure I'll just tell my next boyfriend I'm an avid chess player," she teased.

He knew, though, how big a deal this was for Kate Beckett to allow herself – to choose - to be marked this way, with a man's name – ok, technically not his name but...this was even better than his name. It was like their own private code. It occurred to him that she might have done it that way knowing how much he would love that, and his heart melted even more. He had stopped caring that she'd never said the words, had even accepted that she may never be able to. She had often hinted at it very strongly – tonight for example, referring to sex between them as making love.

She found other ways to show him: with her actions; with the way that she looked at him; with her body. She had found many, many, many ways to show him with her body. He'd thought she'd ran out but - son-of-a-bitch - she'd found another one.

"I thought not every part of you revolved around me."

"Not everything," she said, bringing his hand back to the tattoo, her heart. "Just this," she whispered.

There were no words.

"Apples," he whispered against her skin.

Kate rose her head. "What?"

"I don't need to be in charge any more. I've found it now. I really appreciate it, I do – maybe some other time, but... tonight, I just want you to be you."

Her face changed. "Thank God," she said, pulling him up by the collar and kissing him so fiercely he thought she might have swallowed his tongue. "Let's get rid of these, first, they've been driving me insane," she panted as she tore his shirt open.

"Whatever you say, Detective," he gasped as she unzipped his pants to stroke his erection.

"I'm your guy."

**Author's Note:**

> The Rook in chess is also known as the Castle, for those who didn't know. I know nothing about wine. Hope ya liked! Firefly reference was unintentional.


End file.
